


Love Is Not Just a Verb

by Theoroark



Series: Dark Room [18]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Marriage Proposal, Team Talon (Overwatch), Team as Family, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-14 00:05:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18041627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theoroark/pseuds/Theoroark
Summary: Honesty & open communication has always been big for them. So when Widow says "Hey, do you want to get engaged?" she's not expecting Sombra to respond by setting down her holovid & arching an eyebrow. "What?""You ruined the surprise."Shit.-A Spiderbyte wedding fic, in a series of vignettes.





	1. Proposal

It’s the night before a job, and just a few years ago, Widow would have spent that night in restless sleep in her quarters, alone on a hard mattress with her bad dreams. Now though, she’s gone back to the Chateau, and Sombra’s come with her. Sombra’s an insomniac and her many, many holovid screens keep Widow up later than she’d like, true. But Sombra also makes great use of the Chateau’s kitchen, and Sombra’s warmth on her side keeps the bad dreams away most nights. And the nights it doesn’t, Sombra’s there to hold her. She and Sombra have been together for a couple years now. She’s told Sombra she loves her. But sitting there in bed with her, the night before a mission, Widow is struck with just how much she loves Sombra, and how every moment of her life is made better through Sombra’s presence.

Honesty & open communication has always been big for them. So when Widow says "Hey, do you want to get engaged?" she's not expecting Sombra to respond by setting down her holovid & arching an eyebrow. "What?"

  
  
"You ruined the surprise."

  
  
_Shit._

 

"Sombra, I didn't– I didn't think you wanted a fancy proposal, I'm–"

  
  
"So now," Sombra says, & now Widow sees the hint of a smile. "I'm going to have to propose to you, instead."

  
  
Oh. Shit.

 

“If you want to,” Widow says in a strangled voice, and Sombra’s grin widens to show her teeth.

 

“I do,” she says. “But I’m going to do it right. So you’ll just have to wait.” Then she picks up her holovid and goes back to whatever she was doing. Widow sits down next to her and grabs a book and pretends her giddiness isn’t keeping her from reading a single word.

 

-

 

The mission is the next day, so they fly back to base that morning. They land in Venice at sunrise, and Sombra isn’t nearly as groggy in the early morning as she usually is. She practically bounds off the plane ahead of Widow. As Widow’s descending, Sombra stops, turns, and gets down on one knee. Widow sucks in a breath. The lighting is perfect, the wind is tousling her hair just so, the angle is just right. Their engagement photos will be all time.

 

“Sorry,” Sombra says, adjusting her leggings. “Bunched up on the plane.” She stands and Widow brushes past her.

 

“Jerk,” Widow mutters, and Sombra trots in pursuit, cackling.

 

-

 

It’s not long before the two of them are back on the plane, though. There’s a mercenary in Athens who’s becoming very inconvenient for Talon, and the Council would like to know who they work for and then he would like them gone. Sombra gets her intel pretty fast and translocates back to Widow’s sniper nest where Widow is watching and waiting.

 

“Beautiful city, huh?” Sombra says. Widow doesn’t take her eyes off the door and the flashing advertisement above it, but she hums her assent. She loves cities that show how humans can move forward, even if they can’t forget the past.

 

The advertisement on the screen above the door disappears suddenly. It’s black for a moment, then a purple sugar skull blinks on it, then words start to scroll across. “Widow,” it says. “Will you…”

 

“Oh my God,” Widow whispers.

 

“Look across the street? I think that’s our guy.”

 

Widow jerks her rifle over, locates the target, and pulls the trigger. “Jackass,” she mumbles as Sombra slumps down laughing.

 

-

 

They’re back at the Chateau in the early morning. Sombra’s finally looking tired now, and Widow feels it too as the adrenaline of the kill wears off. Sombra wraps her arms around Widow’s waist as Widow unlocks the door, and they shuffle in together. Widow glances over her shoulder, smiling. Sombra’s buried her face in her ponytail.

 

“It’s going to be a bit hard to get up the stairs like this, you know.”

 

“Mm,” Sombra agrees. “I needed to let go anyway.” And before Widow can ask her what she means, Sombra is down on one knee. She reaches into the inside pocket of her jacket and holds out a ring to Widow. It’s not quite how this ritual works but there’s a dim purple glow to the ring and so Widow takes it before Sombra’s said a word. The ring looks like a plain silver band but when Widow turns it over, there’s a spider web pattern of glowing purple wires.

 

“It took me forever to make it,” Sombra says, and there’s an anxiety in her voice Widow’s so rarely heard before, and never heard when someone wasn’t in danger of bleeding out. “Only in the past couple weeks, actually. I was planning on asking you about getting married soon, just couldn’t find the right time, it seemed like, and so– I’m glad you brought it up.” She laughs but it’s a nervous one, and she quickly looks up at Widow. “But uh. Anyway. Do you like it?”

 

“I love it,” Widow says. She reaches down and cups Sombra’s face, and Sombra leans into her touch. “I love you. Yes.”

 

“I haven’t even asked you yet, Widow!” Widow tries not to laugh at how indignant and frazzled Sombra looks. “I had a whole speech prepared about why I love you and I why I want to spend the rest of my life with you, you can’t just jump straight to the yes!”

 

“It must be awful, to have someone defy your expectations like that.”

 

Now, Sombra laughs, and so Widow does too. She kneels down so she’s facing Sombra and kisses her as she slips on the ring.

 

“Why here though?” Widow asks. “I’m not complaining, but– the other places, they were more… traditionally romantic.”

 

Sombra tucks a strand of Widow’s hair behind her ear and kisses her cheek. “You actually gave me the idea,” she says. “I had been waiting and looking for the right time to bring it up, and then when you asked me if I wanted to get married last night I realized– here is the right place to do this. Because this is our home, Widow. And because you’re my home. I haven’t had a home in so long but then I realized– it’s you.”

 

Widow’s mouth falls open a little and she sits in that silently. But then Sombra adds, “This was all covered in my speech, if you had just let me get to it,” and Widow kisses her to shut her up.


	2. Planning

“It’s a very big step, you know,” Akande tells her. 

 

Widow has to remain perfectly as the tailor sticks pins in the tuxedo she’s getting fitted. But she can still roll her eyes at Akande. “I wasn’t aware,” she says, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “The first time I got married, it was because Gérard and I lost a bet.”

 

Akande tries to hide his laughter by taking a sip of his martini. Widow grins. This is the reason Akande’s her best man– the second reason, perhaps, the other being that he knows the best tailors in the world. Akande is one of the few people who is not afraid of her. Not afraid of her in any respect, not just in terms of her sniping skill. Reyes, much as Widow likes him, would get awkward and silent were Widow to so much as mention her departed husband. He certainly would never laugh at a black joke about him. Akande is not daunted by Widow’s tragic past. It does not cause him to handle her with kid gloves. He isn’t afraid of her, he respects her, she likes that about him. 

 

Of course, that also means that Akande is not afraid to make his dislike of Sombra known from time to time. 

 

“She’s just… not particularly reliable, you know?” Akande is contemplating the ceiling of the show room as Widow watches him, eyebrow arched, in the mirror. “You may be ready for the commitment, but I would not put money on her.”

 

The tailor stands up, taps a series of notes in her tablet, and scurries off without a word to either of them. Widow sighs and shuffles towards Akande. “I know what I’m doing,” she says. “I trust her. And even if you don’t trust her, you trust me, yes?”

 

“I do,” Akande says, quickly and sincerely. He sets his glass down and plays with it while he thinks. Widow waits. “I just… don’t want you to get hurt is all, Lacroix.”

 

“If I did, then that conflict would just make me stronger.”

 

She says it in a joking tone but Akande doesn’t so much as smile. Instead, his brow furrows further. “I mean it,” he says. “You are a good woman. I mean that too,” he adds when Widow snorts. “You’re not a hero or a leader but you are a good friend to me.”

 

“We just talk shit a bunch. That’s our friendship.”

 

“And I can trust you not to tell anyone else my secrets, and that you’ll give me your honest opinion when I ask for it. That’s rare, Lacroix. And I hope you know you can expect the same from me.” Widow nods. She’s a little overwhelmed with how emotional this conversation has become, and how fast. If Akande’s not touching his martini, maybe she could take it. “So you’re a good friend. And I don’t want you to get hurt.”

 

“I won’t,” Widow says. Akande nods curtly and grabs his drink. Widow studies her clasped hands. “And I would do the same for you,” she says, even though it makes her feel horribly uncomfortable, because it’s true and she just told him she was honest. “I have your back.”

 

“I know you do,” Akande says. “Thank you.” She looks up and he has a little smile on his face. “Just be sure Sombra knows she’s a lucky woman. And that I have your back too.”

 

Before Widow can critique his shovel talk, the tailor reemerges with a rack of purple suits and, as though they had read her mind, a martini for Widow. They tap a drone and the pins in Widow’s suit come flying out and magnetically stick to the drone. Widow grabs her drink and sits down with a relieved sigh. Akande steps up on the dias and the tailor gets to work. “I’m not going to wear white, of course,” he says to her in the mirror. “Both for the tradition, and because I don’t want to show you up too badly on your wedding day.”

 

Widow grins and takes a long drink. “Do your worst, Ogundimu.”

 

######  _ - _

 

“I know things haven’t always been the easiest between us,” Sombra says. “But you’re the closest thing I have left to actual family. And you’re really important to me.”

 

Patricia nods. She keeps glancing over Sombra’s shoulder. “Uh huh.”

 

“So it’d really mean a lot to me if you could come to my wedding.”

 

“Yeah, totally.”

 

“I mean you can absolutely say no if it’s too much.”

 

“Oh for sure.”

 

Sombra spins around in her seat. Alejandra is, indeed, still sitting at the same table as Gabe in the front of the bakery. But neither of them have moved from the positions Sombra and Patricia left them in: Gabe with his arms folded staring straight ahead, Alejandra staring at him with her mouth open. 

 

“She’s FINE, Patty,” Sombra says, turning back around to face her. “Why would Gabe hurt her?”

 

“I don’t know, Sombra,” Patricia hisses. “I’m not super familiar with zombie behavioral patterns!”

 

“He’s not a  _ zombie _ .”

 

“He looks like a walking corpse and smells like he’s decomposing. If he’s not a zombie, what is he then?”

 

“The point is, Alejandra’s fine,” Sombra says, and Patricia scowls at her evasion. “And she doesn’t have to come to the wedding if you don’t want her to.”

 

“Yeah, no offense, but I’m not bringing my daughter to a fancy criminal party.”

 

“Fair.” Sombra bites her lip and tries to gauge Patricia, but she can’t quite come to a conclusion. “But you,” she floats. “Do you want to…?”

 

“Yeah,” Patricia says with a gust of a sigh. “Yeah, I’ll come to the wedding.” Sombra squeaks and hugs her, and she can tell Patricia’s smiling as she hugs her back. 

 

“Your friend better not have stunk up my bakery too bad,” Patricia says against her shoulder. 

 

-

 

“Sorry about back there,” Gabe says as they’re walking back to the drop ship. Sombra looks over at him but his mask is back in place, so she can’t read his expression. 

 

“It’s fine,” Sombra says. “Patty overreacts a lot.”

 

“It was her kid. It’s understandable.” 

 

Sombra frowns up at him as they approach the camouflaged ship. “You didn’t do anything, though.”

 

“Doesn’t matter.” Gabe taps something into his holovid and the ship flickers into view. Sombra settles into the pilot’s seat and he sits next to her. He takes his mask off, and now she can see he looks a little worried. 

 

“What’s up, Gabe?” she asks as they lift off. He keeps his eyes on the horizon and sighs. 

 

“Are you sure you want me at the wedding?”

 

“Of course,” Sombra says immediately. “Why wouldn’t we?”

 

Gabe barks out a laugh. “Come on, Sombra. You don’t have to bullshit me here.” They’re still in the Dorado city airspace and so Sombra needs to keep her eyes on the sky but she’s seen the sad, too tired to be angry smile that accompanies that tone for Gabe enough times now that she doesn’t need to look. “On a purely aesthetic level, I don’t exactly fit in. People wouldn’t want to mingle with me, even if I wanted to mingle with them. And let’s be honest.” He snorts. “I’m not exactly overflowing with good romantic fortune.”

 

The ship’s far enough out over the ocean now that Sombra feels comfortable putting it on autopilot so she can turn and fully face Gabe. Sure enough, he’s wearing that depressing smile. “Gabe,” she says. “You think I came out here to invite Patricia because she’s the prettiest girl in the world? You think Patricia is jazzed about me marrying an assassin?” Gabe gives a minute shake of his head. “Right. Patricia’s not the ideal wedding guest. But she’s family. And so I want her there.”

 

Gabe’s silent for a minute after that. He looks almost confused. “I’m not your father,” he says finally. 

 

Sombra rolls her eyes. “Yeah, no shit. That dude stayed dead.”

 

“No, I mean– I’m not a father figure to you. You’re getting married, Sombra. My wife thinks I’m dead and my ex-boyfriend is trying to kill me.” Gabriel shakes his head. “You have your life far more together than I do. I can’t give you any advice here.”

 

“No shit,” Sombra repeats. “But I’m not like… looking to recreate a nuclear family with you or whatever. You matter to me, you’re important to my life. Both our lives. So we want you at the wedding.”

 

“Ah,” Gabriel says quietly. “Okay.” Neither of them talk for a bit after that. Sombra pulls out her holovid and checks her messages. Widow’s sent her ten more ideas for wedding dresses. She smiles and starts to flip through them. 

 

“If I’m not a father figure,” Gabe says suddenly. “What am I then? Creepy uncle figure?”

 

Sombra looks up, surprised, then grins. “Not creepy,” she says. “Grouchy. Are grouchy uncles a thing?”

 

“Crotchety grandpa?”

 

“Perfect,” Sombra says, and Gabe grins back at her. His smile is real now and that makes this whole trip worth it. “I’ll be sure that’s on your seat assignment.”


	3. Ceremony

“I’m sorry,” Satya says. “I wish I could come, but…”

 

She trails off and in the holovid image, Widow can just make out her playing with a snowy-colored ball of putty anxiously. Widow gives what she hopes is a comforting smile. She’s never been very good at comfort. “It’s okay,” Widow says. “I understand. There are plenty of Talon people I wouldn’t want to see, either.”

 

“I could still try to help you get out, if you wanted–”

 

“Satya.”

 

“Right.” She flashes Widow a nervous smile, but her treatment of the putty has become a bit smoother. “I just– I am sorry I’m missing your wedding.”

 

“It’s alright,” Widow says. She sips her wine and check the timer. Facemask has another couple minutes, and then her skin will be perfect for tomorrow. “I’ll send you pictures and free booze. That’s basically the same as being there.”

 

Satya giggles her hiccupy giggle, the one that always makes Widow smile. “Nevertheless,” Satya says when she’s quieted. “I wanted to do something for you.”

 

Widow waits but when Satya doesn’t elaborate, she arches an eyebrow. “Well? Did you?”

 

“Oh yes. But you’ll have to wait a bit longer to see it.”

 

“I’m not a fan of surprises, you know.”

 

“Well. You’ll be a fan of this one.” Widow starts to complain but Satya cuts her off. “Take the mask off now, dear. And good luck on the big day.” She blows Widow a kiss and hangs up and Widow heads, grumbling, to the bathroom to do as she’s told. 

 

-

 

The hard light is soft, a dim lavender. But the sheer volume of it nearly blinds Sombra when she enters the reception hall. It’s woven across the vaulted ceiling to create impromptu rafters, and then drips off of those in flowered vines. It dots the floor in crystalline outcroppings, and Sombra can see guests carefully dancing their way around them. There are webs on the wall and dots in those webs that shine brighter than the rest of the hard light in the room. Sombra gets closer and confirms that yes, they are actually spider-shaped. She shakes her head, smiling. 

 

“Widow’s friends are so fucking extra,” she says to herself. And then as if summoned she spots Lúcio across the hall, pushing a hovering DJ setup with him. Guests are stopping and gawping and Sombra has to elbow past a selfie-seeker to talk to him first. He looks over her tank top and leggings and raises an eyebrow. 

 

“I thought you said your wedding dress was going to be, and I quote, ‘the dopest shit ever.’”

 

“I’m not dressed yet, jagweed.” She jostles him but he still looks unapologetic. “What’s up?”

 

“This is kind of what’s up, actually.” Lúcio nods over her shoulder and Sombra looks behind her. A small horde of wedding guests suddenly appear to be very interested in the ceiling or the floor, and not at all in the world famous DJ in front of them. “I’m trying to stick to your playlist, but people keep coming up and requesting my stuff. It’s really distracting.”

 

“Widow picked out this playlist special. You’re not playing your stuff.”

 

“Well, then get me a bouncer or something!”

 

Sombra looks around, spots an Assassin a few rows away, and jogs over to her. “Hey,” she says. “You want to stand in front of that guy–” she points to Lúcio, “–and cut up anyone who gets close to him?”

 

The Assassin laughs, a high shrill sound that cuts through and dampens the polite chatter in the hall. She leaps over Sombra and scurries over to Lúcio. Lúcio gives Sombra an exasperated look as he pushes he turntables back towards the entrance, the Assassin skittering behind him. 

 

As Sombra makes her way towards the back, she spots Sanjay. She can’t resist. “Hey man,” she says, sidling up to him with a broad smile. “Thanks for the decorations!”

 

“Ah.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I, ah, didn’t do these.”

 

“What?” Sombra says, laying the shock on thick. “But you’re the only Talon member that uses hard light, aren’t you.”

 

“I. I am.”

 

“And I mean, no Vishkar employee would ever try to do something without your permission, and definitely wouldn’t get away with it, right?” 

 

Sanjay finally catches on that she’s making fun of him and pushes past her with a huff. Sombra’s fake smile turns into a real one, especially as she spots Gabe in the back row, wearing all black with his headphones in. 

 

“Really,” she mouths. He holds up his seat assignment card and Sombra can’t read it from this distance, but she wrote “cranky old man” on it herself. She gives him a thumbs up and slips into the back hall. 

 

Patricia’s waiting for her when she gets to her dressing room. “Finally,” she says, standing up and opening her makeup case. “I know you said the hair would be easy–”

 

“It’s just a clip in braid,” Sombra says, pointing to the faintly glowing hair piece on the chair. 

 

“–but your makeup’s not going to be. Especially if you don’t sit still.” She gives Sombra a warning look and Sombra rolls her eyes but keeps still as Patricia sweeps a brush over her eyes. She thinks she does a decent job of not fidgeting as Patricia works, or maybe Patricia’s just used to her by now. In any case, Patricia’s almost done when they hear a knock at the door. 

 

“Are you expecting anyone?” she asks, and Sombra shakes her head. Patricia opens the door and Sombra can’t see who it is from her angle, but she sees Patricia’s eyes widen. 

 

“You’re not supposed to be here,” she says. 

 

“I know,” Sombra hears Widow says. “But I’d like to speak with Sombra for a minute. Alone.” 

 

Patricia looks back at her and Sombra nods. She steps out and Widow slides past her, looking polished and elegant in her white tuxedo, staring at her shined black shoes. 

 

-

 

“We are gathered here today,” Angela says. “For very different reasons. You are all here because you’re an international terrorist syndicate.” In the crowd, Lúcio and Patricia make vague noises of protest. Angela gives them a quick nod. Behind Widow, Akande coughs. Angela pays him no mind.

 

“I am here,” she continues. “Because apparently I’m the only person Sombra knows who could officiate a reform Jewish wedding. And since, unfortunately, I like her, I agreed.”

 

Angela glares at Sombra. Sombra mouths “Thank you,” and winks. Angela rolls her eyes, clears her throat, and begins the service. 

 

"Blessed are you who come in the name of  _ Adonai– _ ” 

 

_ “I wanted to talk to you beforehand,” Widow said. “Because I know I won’t be able to say my vows in front of all those people. But you deserve to hear them. So.” _

 

"May the One who is mighty and blessed above all bless the brides–”

 

_ Widow took out her holovid and took a deep breath. “I love you,” she read from it. “Because you’re fun to be around. Even when life is awful, even when we’ve fought, I’ve always been glad you were the one who was with me. You just– you make my life better in a way I didn’t think was possible.”  _

 

“Harei atah m'kudash li b'tabaat zo k'dat Moshe v'Yisrael.”

_ “And I love you because you love me back. That might be selfish, but like– that’s the thing. You’ve never judged me for being selfish.” Sombra snorted and shook her head and wiped at her eyes. “There are so many people who treat me like a monster. Or like a tragedy. Even the ones who don’t, they still act like I’m broken. You never treated me like that. You always loved me for who I was. And you don’t know how much that means to me, Sombra. I love you so much, and I would do anything for you. Because you loving me is the best feeling in the world.” _

 

“If you have vows prepared, you can read them now.” Angela turns to Sombra.

 

_ “Fuck.” Sombra wiped her eyes again and looked in the mirror. “Patty’s going to have to do my eye makeup all over again. She’s going to be so pissed.” Widow laughed a little, an uncertain noise, and Sombra stood and cupped her cheek. “Hey,” she said. _

 

“We doing this thing?” Sombra asks Widow.

 

_ “I love you. And I love you being on my team. And I’m so happy I’m going to spend the rest of my life with you.” _

 

“Sure,” Widow says. “Why not.” 

 

And Angela says, “Well. You’re married then, I guess,” and Sombra leans past her to kiss Widow.

 

_ “I love you. And I can’t wait for you to be my wife.” _

**Author's Note:**

> For @Iesbiansombra on twitter- Vulpine you are such a good friend and amazing person, I hope you like this <3
> 
> I'm @tacticalgrandma on twitter/tumblr if you want to talk to me there.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, and any comments/kudos would mean the world to me!


End file.
